There may be more beauty--I have heard there is, in the upper class of Englishwomen than in any race of women on the globe. But a step lower in rank, less smoothly cosmopolitan, more provincially and honestly Saxon; reserved, yet frank; simple, yet gay, would be the Englishwoman of one's heart. The man who dare open his eyes, fearlessly, to the beauties of such an one--seek her in a virtuous middle-class home, ask her of her proud father and mother; then win her and take her, joyfully, to sit by his happy hearth, wife--matron--_mother_---- I forget how that sentence was to have ended; however, it is of little consequence. It was caused partly by some reflection on this club-life, and another darker side of it, of which I caught some glimpses when I was in London. We finished the evening at the theatre pleasantly. In the sort of atmosphere we were in, harmless enough, but glaring, unquiet, and unhome-like, I was scarcely surprised that Mr. Charteris did not once name the friends at whose house I first met him; indeed, he seemed to avoid the slightest approach to the subject. Only once, as we were pushing together, side by side, into the cool night air, he asked me, in a low hurried tone, if I had been to Rock-mount lately? He had heard I was present at the marriage. I believe I made some remark about his absence being much regretted that day. "Yes---yes. Shall you be there soon?" The question was put with an anxiety, which my answer in the negative evidently relieved. "Oh, then--I need send no message. I thought you were very intimate. A charming family--a very charming family." His eyes were wandering to some ladies of fashion who had recognised him--whom he put into their carriage with that polite assiduity which seems an instinct with him, and in the crowd we lost sight of Mr. Charteris. Twice afterwards I saw him; once, driving in the park with two ladies in a coroneted carriage: and again walking in the dusk of the afternoon down Kensington-road. This time he started, gave me the slightest recognition possible, and walked on faster than ever. He need not have feared:--I had no wish or intention of resuming our acquaintance. The more I hear of him, the more increases my surprise--nay, even not unmixed with anxiety--at his position, in the family at Rockmount. ***** Here I was suddenly called out to a bad accident case, some miles across the country; whence I have only returned in time for bed. It was impossible to do anything for the poor fellow; one of Granton's labourers, who knew me by sight. I could only wait till all was over, and the widow a little composed. At her urgent request, I sent a note to Rockmount, hard by, begging Miss Johnston would let her know if there had been heard anything of Lydia--a daughter, once in service with the Johnstons, afterwards in London--now--as the poor old mother mournfully expressed it--"gone wrong."